


Shopping with the Lord(s)

by basilthymee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Carapacians (Homestuck) - Freeform, Clothes, Drinking, Lord2, Meta (Kinda), Midnight City (Homestuck), Other, Relationship(s), Shopping, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25014058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basilthymee/pseuds/basilthymee
Summary: On a hot summer day, Ashton goes on a small trip.
Relationships: Lord English/Ashton
Kudos: 5





	Shopping with the Lord(s)

It was a hot summer day, one of those days where the heat was so intense you don’t even have the energy to get up, you know the ones.  
So there I was, lying down on my favourite recliner I had just bought from the Midnight City’s variant of IKEA when Lord English Burst into my- our room.

**LORD ENGLISH: ASHTON MY LOVE.**  
**ASHTON: whats wrong you only call me that when you want to ask me something I really *really* hate.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: CAN WE GO TO THE MALL.**  


There he stood, towering over me, his shadow stretched over me, cooling me off from Skaia’s scorching light.  
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, he was wearing that cute crown I had made him; he must be really desperate if he’s wearing THAT, especially after asking me something that I really *really* hate.

Of course, I responded with what I would usually respond when faced with a situation like this:

**ASHTON: no.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: WHY NOT??**  
**ASHTON: because i dont like the mall??? Isnt that enough explanation?**  
**LORD ENGLISH: ARE YOU SCARED THAT A BUNCH OF KIDS WILL STEP ON YOUR CAPE AND YOU’LL HAVE TO GO AROUND THE MALL WITH YOUR CAPE RIPP-**  
**ASHTON: shshshh shh shush shush hsuhshush silence**  
**ASHTON: no one needs to know about that**  


Not even you.

**LORD ENGLISH: COME ON. STOP BEING LIKE THIS.**  
**ASHTON: you should stop**  
**LORD ENGLISH: NO.**  


English was stubborn, extremely stubborn, more stubborn than the last pringle in the horribly shaped jar that you stick your hand into and barely graze it with your finger so you push your hand deeper but then the sides of your hands get covered in all the grease and salt left behind by the other chips so when you FINALLY get it out your hand feels all greasy and disgusting so you go and clean it but when you come back you realise that your intense chip grabbing has left crumbs all over the table and carpeted floor so you call your mai-

You get it, he’s really stubborn.

**LORD ENGLISH: ASHTON DON'T MAKE ME DO IT.**  
**ASHTON: do what**  
**LORD ENGLISH: FORCE YOU TO HELP SAWBUCK IN THE KITCHEN.**  
**ASHTON: thats not too ba-**  
**LORD ENGLISH: YOU DO THE CUTTING.**  
**ASHTON: you are cruel**  


Reluctantly, I rolled off of the recliner and snapped my fingers, my god-tier jammies appearing on me in an instant.

**ASHTON: lets go**  


With what I could only assume was a gleeful smile, English wrapped his hand around my chest and picked me up, carrying me bridal-style outside of the mansion.  
Geez English, you could’ve warned me before acting *this* romantic.

The air outside, unsurprisingly, felt scorchingly hot, the rays of Skaia shone brightly.  
I can’t imagine how the Prospitans are dealing with this considering how literally everything on that planet shines like polished silver.  
Lord English almost never left the mansion on his own accord, mostly since he had no business outside of its walls. But on the off-chance he did, every carapacian on the road would stare at him in awe... or fear.

**LORD ENGLISH: CARAPACIANS ARE SO SMALL.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: WHY ARE THEY SO SMALL.**  
**ASHTON: i mean, youre huge**  
**ASHTON: plus theyre naturally small i think**  
**LORD ENGLISH: CAN I CRUSH ONE.**  
**ASHTON: no**  
**LORD ENGLISH: FINE.**  


We entered the main plaza with thousands of eyes trained onto our back. Come on, seeing a towering cherub hold hands with his stunningly handsome and powerful partner walking down the street can’t be that weird.  
The mall was just up ahead, large neon purple letters glowed brightly on the pitch-black backdrop of paradox space: “Midnight Mall”

As we descended the large stairs connected to the small plaza before the entrance of the mall, I noticed an abnormally large gathering of carapacians around a white dotted tarp that was spread out on the city's purple stone tiles.

**LORD ENGLISH: WHAT IS GOING ON DOWN THERE.**  
**ASHTON: no clue, maybe a performance?**  
**LORD ENGLISH: DO THE LITTLE CHESS PEOPLE PERFORM.**  
**ASHTON: why wouldnt they???**  
**LORD ENGLISH: THEY BELONG ON A BOARD.**  
**ASHTON: holy shit thats really chessphobic**  
**LORD ENGLISH: OH.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: SORRY.**  


Lord English never apologies, it’s not in his nature. For a while, I didn’t think he was even able to say sorry until he accidentally stepped on my cape and ripped it. He must really want to go to the mall if he’s acting so out of character.  
As we approached the curious performance, the sound of typical Carapacian music made its way to our ears, it was a very smooth song, probably some carapacian version of jazz or blues.  
None of the carapacians seemed to even flinch as Lord English’s booming steps approached them, was it some weird spell?

To my dismay, no, it wasn’t a twisted enchantment or some sort of grimdark magic that had manifested out of nowhere, it was a trio of carapacians gleefully playing their instruments. It was cute but boring.

Pulling English to the side hoping his incumbent presence wouldn’t disturb the carapacians, we made it to the little chamber before the proper entrance to the mall.  
It smelt of air freshener, but not the good kind, the kind you would smell at a five-dollar store or at a sketchy 24/7 laundromat which always has those blinding, buzzing neon lights that could probably burn paper if you put it close enough and where you swear there’s some sort of secret operation or something terrible happened there because let’s be honest every single 27/7 laundromat is always creepy as fuck.  
We approached the main gates and were greeted with a small green light above us, the two doors slid open with ease, revealing the intense A/C they had put in the mall.  
The large marble-floored hall was practically deserted, only a couple of carapacians were lingering around the water fountain or around the “Shell Topic” store where they covered themselves with carapace piercings.

**ASHTON: tch, the youth**  


English proposed we go up the escalator but I already knew how it would end. He would go up for a couple of steps then say something like:

**LORD ENGLISH: HEY ASH.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: DO YOU THINK I CAN RIDE THE HANDRAIL.**  


And I, usually bewildered, would respond:

**ASHTON: what, no youre way too big**  


He would always look at me with what I assume is a daring look, a look that says “Oh you bet I can’t do it??” written all over it.  
So, more often than not, he completely ignores me and tries to sit on the escalator’s handrail.  
And what happens after that are either the most spectacular or the most embarrassing moments of my life, considering how I’m feeling. Every time, though, I watch his 10-foot ass plummet to the ground and cause some pretty mild structural damage.  
Luckily, the carapacian security can’t really kick us out considering we’re two of the most powerful beings in the universe, but they always give us this side-eyed look that stays on my mind whether I want it or not.

This time, luckily, I convinced him to take the stairs. It was a much slower approach but the risk of causing another Lord-sized crater in the floor is severely reduced.  
The first floor was always filled with the most interesting stores, most of them though selling the exact same stuff but in different colours or those tacky “Moon-brand” stores that insist on telling you that a white shirt they dyed yellow or purple is “Prospit-brand” or “Derse-brand” respectively.

The only, *only* store that actually interested me in this god-forsaken place of chemical products that probably would be banned by the Geneva Convention or troublemaking youth that run away the second I unsheath my electric bow and arrow, is the clothing store, the big one run by, surprisingly, a rather talkative carapacian by the name of “Care”.

**CARE: ey dere boss! Did ya bring the bodyguard aswell?**  


She called me “boss” or any variant of the sort every time I entered this store (which is more than I would like to admit but this is the only good clothing store in the city so I don't have much of a choice.)

**LORD ENGLISH: WHO ARE YOU.**  
**CARE: who ar you??**  
**CARE: jus kidding pal i know who you ar!!!**  
**LORD ENGLISH: DO YOU OWN THIS PLACE.**  
**CARE: hundred percent mine!!**  
**CARE: well, apart from the taxes i have to pay**  
**LORD ENGLISH: I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU HERE BEFORE.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: BUT IF YOU DO OWN IT TELL ME WHERE YOU GET ALL OF THE HIGH-QUALITY CLOTHES FROM.**  
**CARE: ‘fraid i cant tell ya chief, that would be compromisin to our company!**  
**LORD ENGLISH: TELL ME.**  
**CARE: nuh-uh**  
**LORD ENGLISH: I WILL CRUSH YOU.**  
**ASHTON: aaand thats enough**  
**ASHTON: sorry about that, he hasn't been outside in a while**  
**CARE: don worry about it!**  


I gave her a smile of forgiveness hoping she wouldn’t give me that notorious side-eye that seems to be chipping away at my reputation around this place, but she just turned around and kept on doing whatever she was doing as if nothing ever happened.

But anyway, onto the matter at hand: buying clothes.

Lord English seemed to always buy oversized coats and hats he thought he looked cool in. I never tell him, but nothing here fits him so he’s always looking at himself in the mirror with these tiny coats on his back acting all smug and cool, but that’s why I love him.  
I, of course, couldn’t stop myself from taking a peek or two and what the store had to offer, after all, it was the best one in all of Midnight City.  
While English looked through the same old trench coats and mafia-like things, my eyes drifted towards a certain pair of black, ripped jeans hung on the wall along with a bunch of other emo things you would find at “Shell Topic”.  
But as my eyes scanned over the vast racks of clothes, my eyes glued themselves to a vibrant Hawaiian shirt.  
Where the hell did carapacians find clothes like this? I may not be that invested in the carapacian trade world but last time I checked they don’t have any connection with the human world.  
I ran my hand over the shirt’s material, silk, high quality. The buttons seemed to be made of stainless steel, odd. I took the shirt and unbuttoned it, putting it on and posing in front of a mirror.

God, I’m gorgeous.

**LORD ENGLISH: ASH.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: ASHTON.**  
**ASHTON: hm?**  
**LORD ENGLISH: LET'S GO.**  
**ASHTON: why?**  
**LORD ENGLISH: I HAVE EVERYTHING I NEED.**  


I leaned to the side to look at the exaggerated amount of clothes he had tucked under his arm, why would he use that many overcoats?

**ASHTON: really? all those coats?**  
**LORD ENGLISH: ALL OF THEM.**  
**ASHTON: do they even fit?**  
**LORD ENGLISH: THEY DO STOP ASKING.**  
**ASHTON: alright then lets go pay**  
**LORD ENGLISH: WHAT.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: PAY.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: WHY DO WE NEED TO PAY.**  
**ASHTON: because thats how it works??**  
**LORD ENGLISH: WE DON'T EVEN USE MONEY.**  
**ASHTON: look, you may be an all-powerful time demon jumping from dimension to dimension but I need to keep my reputation somewhat intact here**  
**LORD ENGLISH: CAN'T YOU JUST BEAT EVERYONE UP.**  
**ASHTON: thats not the point**  
**ASHTON: i can't be a proper lord without underlings**  
**LORD ENGLISH: WHAT ABOUT THE FELT.**  
**ASHTON: they’re *your* underlings, I just co-own them**  
**LORD ENGLISH: FINE. I WILL RESPECT YOUR DECISION TO “PAY” AND KEEP YOUR “REPUTATION” INTACT.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: BUT ONLY BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.**  
**ASHTON: thank you**  


He can be so sweet sometimes.

We went over to the counter and paid for our clothes, promptly getting out of that store before English could complain about some other thing he wouldn’t understand.  
We went back down the stairs after another argument over why he shouldn’t take the escalator for reasons I stated earlier.  
Downstairs, the mall was still nigh-deserted, and the A/C was starting to give me a headache.

**ASHTON: can we go now?**  
**LORD ENGLISH: ONE MORE THING.**  
**LORD ENGLISH: CAN WE TRY A CRUSHY.**  
**ASHTON: ughh fine**  


A crushy was basically ice in a cup with sugar and a bunch of artificial flavouring, every carapacian went wild for them.  
I had never tried one myself, but if it got me closer to getting out of this place, I’m all for it.  
We went to the crushy stand and ordered two cups, I got mango flavour, English got lemon.

The “beverage” was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted, I could feel my tongue recoil in disgust as what I assume was about 2 kilograms of sugar dumped onto it.

**LORD ENGLISH: DO YOU LIKE IT.**  
**ASHTON: uh, yeah**  
**LORD ENGLISH: YOU DON'T.**  
**ASHTON: yeah i do**  
**LORD ENGLISH: YOU ARE DOING THAT THING WITH YOUR FACE WHEN YOU DON’T LIKE SOMETHING BUT PRETEND YOU DO.**  
**ASHTON: ...**  
**ASHTON: ok i dont like it**  
**ASHTON: its way too sweet**  
**LORD ENGLISH: YES YOU ARE RIGHT. IT SUCKS.**  
**ASHTON: heh**  


We both tossed our unfinished biological bombs called “crushys” into the nearest trashcan before making our way back to the manor.  
Skaia’s rays still unforgiving, still burning everything they touched, god I would love to just go home and lie down and just, do nothing.

As we headed home, Skaia seemed to stretch our shadows before us, on the sidewalk.  
English’s fingers wrapped themselves around mine, his cold, hard spiked fingertips gently resting on my hand.

**ASHTON: hey**  
**LORD ENGLISH: WHAT IS IT.**  
**ASHTON: i love you**  



End file.
